


Zalera Patriarch

by Valkyrnovas



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:53:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23292766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valkyrnovas/pseuds/Valkyrnovas
Summary: The world's enemy is reincarnated into the body of a lunatic. A far cry from the power and prestige of his past life, and not to mention height. Can a former villain find redemption and clear past misunderstandings or will he be condemned to the life of a villain? Doomed to be persecuted in his desperate race towards the light.
Relationships: Sephiroth/Cloud Strife
Kudos: 4





	Zalera Patriarch

**Zalera Patriarch**

**Chapter 1: Rebirth**

* * *

At the height of noon is when a town is at its busiest. The marketplace bustled with activity with hawkers hawking their wares and townspeople out shopping for daily necessities. While the grown-ups went about their business, children were free to roam the outdoors under a brilliant, warm sun.

Gleeful laughter filled the air as a group of children ran down the streets, carrying sticks as swords. Adorned on their foreheads were headbands of different colours of white, purple, yellow and teal, representing the four main sects of the cultivational world. At the moment, the group were chasing one of the kids wearing a purple headband. Passers-by shouted at them as they recklessly weaved through the heavy traffic. The kid dashed into an alley beside an inn and immediately regretted it as it was a dead end. Before he could backtrack, the others had caught up to him and blocked the entrance to the side street.

A boy wearing a yellow headband stepped forward, “We've caught you now. Give up the flags you stole and we'll call it even.”

“I didn't steal anything. It was a competition and I got every flag fair and square,” the other boy boldly answered.

The boy with the yellow headband hmphed at the statement, “Fair? How can it be fair when you've taken over half of the territories of the defeated ArchadiaSolidor sect. What does that leave the rest of us?”

Undeterred by the other's outburst, “Where does it say that I cannot capture more territory? Since when did anyone have to worry about leaving flags for others to find?”

“H-He's right. There isn't a s-specific...rule that limits the...n-number of flags one can capture,” a meek boy wearing a red headband agreed.

The yellow headband turned towards the new speaker, “Aren’t you supposed to be dead? Stay out of this if you're out of the game.” He once again addressed the rebellious boy. “If we're following the actual Sunstrike Campaign, our MidgarShinra sect is supposed to receive the entire Northern continent.”

“Hah! In an actual war anything goes. The victor takes all. I don't need to surrender any of my hard-earned flags to you no matter how much you whine.”

“If you insist on this, we won't let off neither you nor the whole of JunonLoire sect. Do as you please if you don't care what happens to your sect,” yellow headband warned.

The boy ripped off his purple headband and cast it away, “I'm no longer part of JunonLoire sect. I'm the Zalera Patriarch!”

“Zalera Patriarch? Isn't that until much later?”

“No, he's right. Cloud Strife was already cultivating the demonic path during the Sunstrike Campaign," informed a girl with an air of reasonable persuasion. An ivory cloth adorned her crown.

Hearing this, many wore similar expressions of "oh shit" on their faces.

“Scared yet? Leave before I summon the dead with my Demon Flute Laevateinn.”

“What's going on here?!” A man barked as he came out from the inn. “How dare you mention such unspeakable evil?”

Seeing such a hostile adult advancing towards them, the children scrambled like a pack of stray pups.

The man shouted while waving his fist, “You'd better not let me hear that vile heretic's name again, you hear?!”

When he returned to his table, the others seated there voiced their disapproval.

“Did you really have to be that harsh?”

“Yeah, they're just kids. Plus, it was just a harmless game of pretend. I mean, who hasn't played that game in their youth?”

“Harmless? Cloud Strife was an adolescent when he started cultivating the dark path. Better to cut off such inappropriate ideals before they take root. Lest, more people take up demonic cultivation. Gaia knows the world won't be able to survive another Zalera Patriarch.”

“Isn't Zalera Patriarch just a legend? It's a ghost story meant to scare children so that they don't go out at night.”

“It's not a myth. I know 13 years have passed, but how can people already start forgetting that villainous scourge?”

“Was he really that bad?”

“How can you not know this?"

"It's basic knowledge."

The young man who questioned the viciousness of the Zalera Patriarch gave a nervous laugh under the scrutiny of his peers. The rest of the group let out a long suffering sigh before their expressions turned thoughtful as they recounted a tale of dark times.

"From his stronghold at Great Cavity, he'd summon thousands of corpses. All over the world, the dead were rising from their graves. If that wasn't bad enough, if anyone offended him, he'd send ghouls to that household to terrorise the family to death.”

“I've heard of this. Apparently, many households dying of sudden deaths was a common occurrence at that time. An entire lineage could be wiped out overnight.”

"It was literally hell on Gaia."

"Eventually it was his sect brother, Squall Loire, who put an end to him. He led the siege with the and destroyed his den at Great Cavity."

"The four great sects, JunonLoire, MidgarShinra, CetraCrescent and NibelValkyrie united in the fight to vanquish the world's enemy! A truly glorious moment in history!"

"Was that how he died? I heard that he suffered a backlash from cultivating the dark path and was torn to shreds by his ghost soldiers."

"If that's the case then that's karma for you. The ghost army that he set on others turned their fangs to him. Divine retribution at its finest."

"To think that if the JunonLoire sect hadn't adopted him and trained him in cultivation, he would have been a mere beggar on the streets."

"The head of the Loire sect raised him as his own son, yet this was how he repaid their kindness. He even brought upon the near-extermination of the sect."

"It was nothing short of a miracle that the siege succeeded. Don't forget that Cloud Strife possessed the ultimate weapon of dark magic, the Stygian Bahamut Seal. With it, he felled three thousand cultivators in a single night."

"I heard that it was more than three thousand. Probably five thousand if I'm not mistaken?"

"This madman was really out of control."

"Well, it's a good thing that he destroyed the evil weapon before he died. Otherwise his sins would've been greater."

"Who would've guessed that a child prodigy from a highly distinguished sect would have such a fate?"

"It only proves that one can only cultivate by following the right path."

"Cultivating the dishonest path might be a quicker way to the top, but look at that got him."

"There wasn't a corpse to bury. Not even a strand of hair."

"There's also the matter that Cloud Strife was the recipient of the world's hatred and died an extremely violent death. With all that resentful energy, he would definitely become a vicious ghost. Thus, he is the most likely vengeful spirit to return for vengeance."

"That's impossible. A total of 120 stone beasts were erected on top of Great Cavity. The sects conducted soul summoning rituals in turns for years, all while maintaining heightened vigilance and watching out for strange occurrences all over the world."

"It's been thirteen years. If he were to return there would have been news of it long ago. The Zalera Patriarch has finally perished."

Assured with the generally accepted worldview that the demonic cultivator was gone for good, they raised their cups, toasting to a world without Zalera Patriarch.

* * *

Unbeknownst to them, a storm was brewing on the other side of the world. Across the vast ocean, past the unending line of mountain ranges on the Eastern continent was a quaint little village of Kalm. Dark clouds pregnant with precipitation threatened to burst at a moment's notice. A strong gale howled through empty streets, forcing hundreds of trees in the nearby forest to bow in submission.

A swirling mist of ominous energy gathered above the Wol mansion on the outskirts of town. The black mass was particularly dense over a tiny room located far away from the main building. Only those with high spiritual powers can perceive such an abnormality. This cloud of darkness unseen by the common folk. From within the room was a shifting luminescence, casting a crimson glow on the paper windows.

The flickering light from numerous candles littered around the room cast dancing silhouettes on the walls, creating an effect of being underwater in a sea of red. A large sigil displayed prominently at the center, drawn in blood. An overwhelming scent of smoldering rust permeated the air. Talismans were haphazardly stuck to whatever space was left - which wasn't much.

At the center of the array knelt a young man. Four deep gashes marred his arms - two on each. Crimson liquid flowed from the wounds like water from a spring, drenching his robes below. The room was filled with the sound of incantations. Without pausing for breath, he chanted incessantly, almost like a soul possessed.

_ Pride is lost, Wings stripped away _ . A line from a famous poem remembered seemingly from a lifetime ago.

"I, Ventus Wol, beg for the rebirth of your sinister spirit to grant my most cherished wish."

"With my flesh as lure, in sacrifice for your spirit, my soul as compensation."

Raising his hands towards the sky, "I summon the supreme heinous ghost, Zalera Patriarch!"

"Cloud Strife!"

A streak of lightning descended upon the roof, shattering a few tiles. The light from within the small shack shimmered brilliantly to almost white, before subsiding completely, leaving the establishment in darkness. Even the winds quietened to barely a whisper.

As if the heavens were awaiting a signal, the first drops of liquid snow poured from the sky.

**Author's Note:**

> A/n: Sorry for the silence. I just haven't been able to find the time to sit down and write, but when I came across this novel, I instantly fell in love with the story and I just had. to. write. Mo Dao Zu Shi (or The Untamed) is a xianxia genre which entails fantasy, Chinese mythology, martial arts, etc. I will be using parts from the novel (translation by ExiledRebels, webcomic and anime as reference. I want to watch the 50 episode drama and the audiobook sometime in the future as well...
> 
> Looking back, I tend to have long paras on description in my fics plus the dreaded info dumping. Something I hope to improve on. So I threw lots of dialogue in the beginning, but as you can see in the second portion that I succumb to my desire to describe.
> 
> I'm not sure how frequently I can update this fic. On that note, I thank you for your patience in advance!


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